


Bad Shags and Old Friends

by naiad (iamnaiad)



Category: This Life (tv)
Genre: F/M, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2006, recipient:cgb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-10
Updated: 2010-11-10
Packaged: 2017-10-13 03:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/132495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamnaiad/pseuds/naiad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Many thanks to Ro and Julad for incredibly helpful beta work.  Thanks also to those who offered but were spared because of my deadline issues.<br/>Any mistakes are mine, and mine alone.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Bad Shags and Old Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cgb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cgb/gifts).



> Many thanks to Ro and Julad for incredibly helpful beta work. Thanks also to those who offered but were spared because of my deadline issues.  
> Any mistakes are mine, and mine alone.

_"I'm not supposed to be here, you know. I was done with this. Finished. Better. Well, not better, but able to do it on my own, yeah? I mean, I've traveled, qualified to be a solicitor, and found an office that was actually happy to have me… I've even fallen in love with someone who loves me back. But here I am. Again. An anxious, nervous, bloody work in progress just waiting for it all to fall apart._

I'm being melodramatic, aren't I?" – Warren

*

When Miles walked into his office in Cardiff, Warren almost fell over in shock. He hadn't expected to see anyone from his time in London ever again, despite the occasional foray into the city. It was a stupid expectation, he knew, but an expectation all the same.

"Miles! How are you?" He stood up to shake Miles' hand. "It's been a long time."

"Ten years, give or take," said Miles.

"Right. I think it was just after the wedding. How is Francesca?"

Miles sat in the chair Warren offered. "Living with her new husband and my daughter."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I had no idea." Would he never stop putting his foot in his mouth?

"Well, you wouldn't, really, would you?" Miles sounded as sharp as ever and Warren forced himself not to flinch.

"No… So what brings you here? Did you come to reminisce or –"

Miles shook his head. "No. I'm interested in buying an investment property in Cardiff and this firm came recommended for the contracts. It's purely coincidence."

Warren cursed the flutter in his stomach. Of course it was coincidental. They hadn't been friends for almost a decade. "Right," he said. "Well, let's get to it shall we."

*

Warren stared at the phone in his hands. His right index finger poised over the keypad. Did he really want to do this? Lunch with Miles had been awkward and stilted, but he hadn't been able to get his mind off the house in London ever since. It was making him twitchy. The history they shared had fit like a comfortable jumper, but was it really possible to go back? History was one thing, but so was drama; had they matured enough to look past the scars they'd left on each other?

He was being ridiculous.

It was just Anna. They'd seen each other last month – a quick nod and some standard small talk in chambers not long after he'd seen Miles. She wasn't going to hang up on him. It was just lunch. It would be fine; just fine. He punched the first number and sucked in a breath. Then he punched out the rest in rapid succession.

"Hello? Anna? It's me, Warren."

*

Anna was still larger than life, Warren thought as he watched her walk into the restaurant. For years his mental map of her had consisted of flashes of long legs, tiny skirts, short hair, trashy red lipstick and a wicked grin. Superimposing that over the woman walking towards him now, it didn't fit. There was no space in his head for the long hair pulled into a tasteful bun, or for the skirt that brushed the top of her knees. And there was definitely no room for the sophisticated, understated make-up. He looked at her feet. Oh, thank Christ she was wearing heels. Something about the world wouldn't be right if Anna Forbes had taken to wearing sensible shoes. He wondered why he hadn't noticed these changes properly last month.

"Warren! You look fantastic. What have you been doing to yourself?" Anna swept her chair out and leant in to kiss his cheek at the same time. She smelt of perfume, cigarettes and mint.

He grinned. He couldn't help it. "That was supposed to be my line. Besides, you only saw me a month ago. I don't look any different."

Anna leant back in her chair and flicked the corner of the menu against the table. "Oh, I didn't look properly. It was one of those weird things, you know. Like when you bump into a bloke who was a terrible shag so you only look at him out of the corner of your eye. You don't want to look at them dead on, because they might be able to tell that inside you're screaming that they were absolute crap, and you know that if they say anything you'll _tell_ them they were crap. Old friends are like that."

"Are you telling me I was a bad shag?" Warren waved to the waiter. "Drink?"

"God, yes," Anna said. "And of course you were a bad shag. When you don't see a person for years and then suddenly they pop up again, you never quite know how to look at them. Or if you even want to. Scotch, please."

He watched as she tapped French manicured nails against the table. "Red wine," he said. "Just a glass, please."

"I hadn't seen you since the horrible aftermath of the Milly and Egg catastrophe. How was I to know you were still you? People are odd, Warren. They can turn into raving lunatics with the flip of a ponytail; even if they are in therapy. _Especially_ if they're in therapy."

Warren smiled. "So I'm not a bad shag any more? When did I get the seal of approval?"

Anna grinned and leant forward again. "When you offered to buy me lunch."

Warren laughed and Anna joined in as the waiter slipped their drinks onto the table between them.

*

"…and then he dropped his trousers and I realized his hard on pointed down instead of up!"

Anna slammed her glass back on the table, sputtering as she did so, and Warren allowed himself a smug grin for a punch line well delivered.

"It was upside down! Oh my God!" She said. "What did you do? Did you run screaming?"

"I did the only thing possible," Warren said. "We had sex and then I snuck out before he woke up."

Anna shook her head in mock admonishment. "Warren, Warren, Warren. Will you never change? It's all tawdry sex and running away with you."

"Dessert?" Warren twitched an eyebrow.

"Yes, please." Her grin was crooked and she plucked the menu from his hands. "Indulgence is an essential component of a long life, don't you know?"

He'd already decided, so he didn't complain about the menu theft. Instead he looked at Anna. She was focused on the menu and Warren was struck by the fine lines and pallid skin beneath her make-up. Anna looked exhausted beneath the gloss and sophistication. "It's all drugs and sex parties for us homosexuals." He winked. "Until we settle down and become the boring middle class, concerned with nothing more than our latest renovations and next holiday."

"Jesus Christ!" Anna said. "Don't tell me you've become one of _those_. As if everyone else running off to get married and have babies wasn't horrible enough. That's it. If you tell me that you've had some kind of commitment ceremony and bought a quaint little cottage I might have to kill you. At the very least you'll be back on the bad shag roster."

"Where do you stand on one out of two?"

"Oh, no. You haven't." She grabbed his hand and glared at him. "You haven't gone and met Mr. Bloody Right and gotten yourself committed?"

Warren shook his head. "No. But we did buy a cottage just outside Cardiff."

"Fucking hell." Anna finished her drink in one long swallow and caught the waiter's eye. "I always knew I'd be the last one left standing, but I never thought it would happen this soon. We're still practically infants."

Warren laughed, but Anna didn't stop.

"And what are you doing back in Wales anyway? I thought you were never going back."

"My parents." Warren picked up his water and swirled it in the glass. "They aren't well, and I… found I wanted to be near them."

"You finally did it then?"

"Yeah. They know." He laughed. "They took it a damn sight better than Dale did, too. I was so bloody shocked, you wouldn't believe it."

"Oh, I might." She smiled, and it looked lonely. Warren reached across the table and rested a hand on her shoulder. Anna patted it quickly and then lifted it off. "I'm glad," she said.

"Me too," said Warren.

*

"My God. This is divine," Anna moaned around her spoon. "One will not be enough."

"Is one ever enough?"

"Never, my dear Warren. Never."

Warren slid another spoonful of Crème Brulee into his mouth and smiled. He was doing that a lot. Lunch had been a good idea, relaxing and fun. Maybe his idea wasn't so stupid after all. If a lunch with Anna could be successful, then a reunion of sorts might work. _Might_. "So you aren't seeing anyone at all?"

"Not one, but many, and all of them in my head or the bedside drawer. No, I'm too busy being a fabulously successful barrister and living a life of luxury." She laughed and tapped her glass. "Much as I would love another drink, I have a raging bitch of a client to defend this afternoon. Who sexually harasses their employees these days, anyway? It's so passé."

"Indeed," said Warren. He gestured to the waiter for the bill and swallowed. "Anna? Do you…" He let the words trail off. Later, it would be better to ask later.

"Mmm?" Anna was rifling through her bag. "Spit it out, Warren, or I might start charging you by the hour." She pulled her phone out and winked at him.

"Bugger off. You may be on the fast track to silk, but I still have standards, you know. Besides, I'm probably more expensive than you are."

"Technicalities, darling. Real estate contracts may pay well, but they're so boring. What's the use of being rich and boring? Give me the criminals any day." She jabbed at the buttons on the phone's keypad. "Well? What were you going to ask?"

"Oh. Nothing really." He closed the bill folder. "I was just wondering if you'd like to do this again in a couple of weeks. I'll be in town and it'd be nice to see a friend while I'm here."

"Are we friends again?" Anna asked, her face serious. Then she grinned. "I'm so happy, I'm beside myself."

Warren smacked her arm. "Of course we are. Time can't wipe everything away."

Anna stood. "That's very true, Warren. Very true." She started walking away and then called over her shoulder. "Call me, or I'll hunt you down."

*

 _"I don't believe in paying someone to listen to me talk. Why should I pay when I can have a drink or ten and sort things myself? I'm only here because Warren thought I needed 'an outlet' or something equally ridiculous and the bastard wouldn't give it up._

I've gotten soft – in more ways than one. I suppose it's just lucky I have brains and charm." – Anna

*

Anna walked through the door, kicked off her shoes and flung the brief on the sofa. She dumped her bag beside the brief, continued straight through to the kitchen and poured a glass of wine. "Fuck me," she said. It was nine-thirty pm and she still had hours, and weeks, of work ahead. "Fuck me," she said again and listened to the echo around her empty flat.

She poured another drink and carried it back to the living room. Ignoring the flashing answering machine, she took her drink to the bathroom and shed her clothes while the bath was filling. When it was done she sank into the water, closed her eyes, and sighed. It had been a bitch of a day and seeing Miles at court hadn't made it any better. Jesus. She was too young to have this many regrets.

*

Against all hope, the brief and machine were still there, waiting to be dealt with, when she finished with the bath. At least she wasn't quite so stressed now. Or maybe that was the booze talking. Anna scooped up the brief and threw it on the table. She pulled her robe a little tighter against the chill that was setting in after the warm bath, picked up her handbag and stretched along the sofa. She found her fags after rummaging past the crap in her bag, dropped it on the floor, and lit one up. For a minute or two at least, the day was done.

Anna jerked awake. "Fuck," she said. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." The brief lay on the table untouched. "Jesus, fuck." She hauled herself up and hunted for her mobile phone. What the hell was the time anyway?

Eleven pm. She'd only slept for about fifteen minutes.

"Oh, thank Christ."

She stood reflexively and then sat again and pulled her laptop across the coffee table. She flipped it open and pressed the power button. While she was waiting for it to boot up she opened the brief and grinned. It was a goldmine. It was a scandalous, titillating, and – best of all — high profile goldmine.

*

The alarm buzzed at half past six and Anna pushed it off the bedside table. It hit the floor with a solid clunk and she groaned. Theoretically, mornings were supposed to get easier the older you got, but Anna thought that was nothing more than a blatant fabrication; a lie to make maturity and work seem desirable. Well, bugger that. If she didn't want silk so desperately she'd still be sticking her fingers up at the world.

A quick shower, an even quicker cup of coffee and she was on her way out the door. The flashing light of the answering machine caught the corner of her eye. "Crap." She dropped her bag and hit the button.

"Anna? Sarah. I'm afraid I can't make our Thursday lunch this week. I'll call you at the office to reschedule."

"Anna. It's Milly. Did you give Warren my phone number? It doesn't matter. Just call me, okay."

"Hi, it's Warren. I guess I missed you. I'll try to catch you at the office. I've a better chance of getting you there. Um. I've tried calling the others and I saw Miles yesterday. Am I completely crazy?"

"Yes, Warren, you're stark raving mad," Anna said as the machine beeped and the tape rewound. "Absolutely, fucking, mad."

*

Anna was in client meetings from eight until one, and when she got back to her desk half a dozen messages were waiting. She flicked through them - Milly, Milly, Warren, Milly, Milly, and crazy-lady Jenkins. Anna rolled her eyes. She loved Milly, she really did, but calling her was tedious. One baby apparently equaled one topic of conversation; or two if you counted discussions about how to juggle a baby and a career. Anna picked up the phone.

"Warren? Anna. You're completely insane. You know that, right?"

*

Warren was more than insane, Anna thought as she walked into the pub. They'd moved on, all of them, and it just wasn't possible to go back. She looked around and spotted them at the back. Milly was already there. So was Miles. Warren was looking at her; there was no escaping now. She gave him a little wave and nodded at the bar.

Pint in hand, Anna eventually weaved through the crowd to the table in the corner. The first thing she noticed was Warren's blinding grin and the twinkle in his eye. He knew this was going to be a disaster, the bastard, but he had to do it anyway. He probably just wanted to watch the inevitable drama. Anna still couldn't believe they'd all agreed to show up. Well, all of them except Ferdy. Hell, she couldn't believe _she'd_ shown up, but then she never could resist a disaster.

Miles stood and Anna tilted her head to receive his kiss on her cheek. "Anna," he said in that strange, adult voice he'd been using ever since the divorce. It was so false; surreal, really. Miles would never be an adult. He was always going to be that completely irritating, insufferable, know-it-all adolescent who cruised through life on dubious charm.

Anna smiled. "Miles. You're looking well." He was too, the bastard. Every time Anna saw him at court she hoped he'd suddenly be bald or fat, but it never happened.

"How's Morton-Ludlow?" Miles asked.

"Fab," Anna said as she pulled out a chair and sat between Milly and Warren. "Milly. Warren. How are you?"

Warren shifted a touch to the left. "Fantastic. Milly and Miles were just trading horror stories about child rearing," he said. "I'm truly horrified."

"You're such a liar," said Milly. "He's been asking question after question." She leant into Anna and mock whispered, "I think he's taking notes; planning for the future."

"I am not!" Warren was outraged.

Anna sculled half her pint. "How is Charlotte, Milly?"

"She's amazing, and absolutely terrifying," Milly said as she pulled a photo up onto the screen of her phone and passed it to Anna. "No one warned me properly how hard it would be. But we've got a nanny in now that Michael's been promoted. It's made life much simpler and I can concentrate on getting back into work completely."

"I'll have to come and visit," Anna said.

"Oh, you should. I can't remember the last time you came over."

Miles coughed and Anna looked at him suspiciously. "Sorry," he said. "Drink went down the wrong way."

Anna nodded. "Of course it did." Warren kicked her ankle under the table. "So how often does Francesca let you see Olivia these days? Once a week? Once a month? Whenever you feel like it?"

"Anna!"

"It's fine, Warren. This is how Miles and I communicate." She smiled. "Surely you haven't forgotten?"

"Oh, seriously, Anna. Aren't you ever going to grow up?" Miles was apparently as annoying as ever.

"Not if I can help it," she said. "Honestly. How often are you allowed to see your daughter?"

Miles looked into his glass. "Once a fortnight - any more is 'too disruptive', and it's not like I can find the time anyway."

Milly reached across the table and patted his hand and Anna finished her drink. She stood. "Who's for another? My round."

*

Drinks in hand, Anna arrived back at the table to hear Milly finish an anecdote about Charlotte's first ballet lesson – she was too young to go, but they'd had to book classes already. My God, half an hour in and Anna already wanted to slit her wrists. When had they all become so utterly _boring_? She plastered a smile on her face and plopped the drinks in the middle of the table.

"Well, kids," she said as she sat down. "Drink up. Let's pretend we're young again." They laughed as they were supposed to, but it didn't feel right. It wasn't familiar.

Or maybe it was. Maybe it was familiar and Anna was just so far removed from that time that she'd forgotten the way things were – the way Milly and Warren could wrap themselves up in their own little universes while Miles watched and ignored anything he didn't want to acknowledge. And the way she took potshots at whatever, whoever, got in her way. Anna felt a hand on her shoulder and when she turned around she very nearly keeled over from shock. "Egg! Oh, my God!"

Egg quirked up the corner of his mouth, glanced around the table, and then gave in to Anna's hug.

"I thought you were dead," she said before letting him go.

Miles stepped in and took her place. "So you decided to come." He patted Egg on the back. "Thanks, mate."

"No problem," Egg said as he extricated himself from the hug and shook Warren's hand enthusiastically. "Though I'm still not really sure why we're here."

Milly had hung back from the greetings and as everyone moved to their seats a space opened between her and Egg. She made no move to fill it and neither did Egg. He barely even acknowledged Milly's presence; just side-stepped around her to take the seat next to Miles. Only when he'd sat down did he nod and say, "Milly."

Anna drained her drink and lit up a fag. There would be no pretending now. The elephant was in the room and sitting on their table. She stubbed her cigarette into the ashtray. "Who's for another drink?"

When she left the table she pretended not to hear Milly's comment about some things never changing.

*

"So why are we here?" Miles asked after the lubrication had moved conversation beyond awkward to uncomfortable.

Everyone looked at Warren.

"Uh. I thought it might be nice," he said.

Anna snorted. "Bull _shit_. Tell us."

"Really." Warren said. "The time I spent in the house, our friendship, friendships, meant a lot. And I know I was never really a part of the core, you know, but I really felt like you, well some of you at least, understood me."

Anna glanced around the table and Miles raised an eyebrow at her. She tipped her glass in reply and tried to pay attention to what Warren was still saying. He was right, in a way, she realized. A lot had gone on back then.

"And it's not like things aren't good now. They are - really good. I have new friends, a boyfriend – partner – but, um… it's not... You all saw me through a formative period and I watched you through some of yours and I miss what we had. And I miss having you all in my life." Warren stopped. He sucked in a breath.

Miles opened his mouth to say something, but Warren started again. "I know I could have seen you all separately, but…This is awkward, I realize, but it doesn't need to be. Surely we can all move past our mistakes and find some common ground again?"

Egg laughed and Anna cringed at the sound of it. "When did you become a romantic, Warren?" His voice was harsh. "You can't fix things just because you have some romanticized ideal of how things used to be. We aren't the same people. We've moved on."

"Egg," Miles said. "Relax. Okay? You didn't have to come. Don't take it out on Warren."

"Right. Of course." Egg put his glass on the table with a thud. "Mutual moral support."

Anna watched as Miles flinched and pointedly didn't look in her direction. She glanced at Milly and Warren. Milly had her head down, but her face was hard – she was about to say something. Warren looked like a kicked puppy. Maybe he was the one who'd gotten soft with age. Anna lit another cigarette. "Come on, Egg. Has it really been so bad?" She looked around at all of them. "We've had some laughs, right?"

No one said anything and it stretched out until Warren stood up. "Loo." He smiled. "I hope at least one of you is still here when I get back."

Anna squeezed his hand as he walked past and caught Miles watching her. Jesus Christ. Not again. Never again.

Milly finally looked up, and straight at Egg. "I am sorry, you know. I know it doesn't mean much now, but I needed to say it again."

Egg stared and then finally nodded without saying anything.

"So why did we all come then?" Anna asked. "Clearly Warren has been afflicted with a severe case of nostalgia, but that doesn't explain the rest of us, does it? Milly?"

"To apologise," Milly said.

"Egg?"

"Moral support. Curiosity, I suppose."

"Miles?"

Miles looked right at her. "Unfinished business."

Oh, fuck. Fucking fuck, fuck. This was ridiculous. Would this thing never end.

"And what about you, Anna?" Miles asked. "Why are you here?"

"The same as Egg, really. Moral support. Curiosity. Maybe a bit of nostalgia." She looked around as Warren put a round of shots on the table and then gripped her shoulder.

"Thanks," he said. "I thought we might need these. Think of them as a peace offering if you like."

*

Anna felt herself listing to the right and started trying to count the number of drinks she'd had. She was up to six when she couldn't track them any more and became aware of the warm leg pressed firmly against hers. Miles. She wondered when that had happened. He wasn't looking at her. He was talking children with Milly again; the potential embarrassment of your kids discovering your 'drug fuelled, insane youth'. Warren and Egg were busy comparing their successes against past pathetic failures. There didn't seem to be a clear winner, but it certainly wasn't from a lack of trying.

Anna rolled her eyes. They'd be talking about retirement funds next. She lit up another fag and settled against Miles. It was stupid and childish, but she didn't give a shit. They were reminiscing, after all; may as well do it properly.

"My God," she said. "Oh, my fucking God. We're fucking old."

Everyone looked at her and then the laughing started.

*

"I don't believe it," Miles said. "I don't bloody believe it."

"It's fine," Anna said. "Really it is."

Miles groaned and threw his forearm over his eyes. "Jesus. I've been wanting to do this again for ten fucking years and when I finally get the chance I fuck it up."

Anna rolled over and stuck her chin on his shoulder. "I said, it's fine." She trailed a fingernail along his collar bone and followed it with her mouth. "Alcohol gets the best of everybody occasionally."

"Jesus," he said.

*

 _"This is such a load of rubbish. I can't believe I'm here, and of my own free will, no less. Can you believe it? I know I can't. Christ. One episode of performance anxiety and suddenly I'm analyzing everything. Not to mention giving someone else permission to do the same. I have friends for that – old and new – why can't I talk to them?_

How the hell did this become my life?" – Miles

*

Miles put the phone down and flopped back on to the sofa. This was getting ridiculous. In fact, the whole thing was already beyond ludicrous. He was a grown man. There was no way in the world he should be agonizing over calling a woman; calling Anna.

And that was his answer right there.

This was Anna Forbes, the proverbial one who got away. It was no wonder nothing had gone to plan and his dick had behaved like a piece of wet spaghetti. Anything with that much anticipation was bound to end in a miserable let-down.

The question was, what should he do now? Managing to eat breakfast together had been a momentous step forward when compared to the other times they'd fucked, but it wasn't enough. Miles wanted everything this time; everything good and everything bad. He wanted the outrageously sentimental happily-ever-after and he wanted it with Anna. He wanted to hear Anna say she loved him. He wanted her to be the crazy stepmother leading his daughter astray. He wanted it all, but couldn't hold the phone long enough to let the line connect.

Two weeks already. Miles was fucking it up again, he could feel it. Egg was on holidays in Spain, so calling him for advice was useless. Milly wasn't even an option. Miles knew that she and Anna hardly spoke now that Milly was consumed with being a mother. There was no insight to be found there. And Warren, Warren had always thought they'd end in disaster. There was no getting around it; Miles had to get over himself. He had to call Anna.

The phone rang; shrill in the quiet apartment.

"Hello," he said, knowing there was no way it was going to be that easy.

"Miles? It's Caroline."

*

Miles cradled the phone in his hand. The old bastard was dead. A heart attack, she'd said. The funeral was next week. Was there anyone he should call? He hadn't known how to answer that. Caroline knew more about his dad's life than Miles did. It wasn't as though they'd been close, even if they had put their issues behind them. Maybe he should call Francesca? She probably knew already. They'd met at his dad's wedding after all. Fuck. He needed a fag. Why did he ever think quitting was a good idea?

Dropping the phone on the table, Miles stood up and paced the length of the living room. Fuck it. He grabbed his wallet and keys and slammed the door behind him. What was two years anyway?

*

The phone was ringing when Miles got home. He dumped the bottle of scotch and the carton of cigarettes and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Miles? Warren."

Miles wedged the phone against his shoulder and cracked open the booze. He took a swig from the bottle as Warren rambled on oblivious to the fact that Miles wasn't hearing a single word. "Right," he said.

Warren stopped. "Miles? Miles, are you okay?"

He sounded concerned, which was really nice of him. Warren had always been too nice; people walked all over him. Miles had another drink. And then another.

"Miles," Warren said. "Say something. Are you still there? You need to say something before I call the police and send them around to your house."

"My dad died." His voice felt raw and he wondered when that had happened.

"Shit. Miles, I am so sorry. How are you?" There was a second of horrified silence. "Christ! What a stupid thing to say. Ignore me. I'm a blithering idiot."

Miles could hear Warren moving about. It was a distant and foreign sound; Miles' flat was dead quiet. He couldn't even hear himself breathing.

"Right," said Warren. "Have you called your office to let them know you won't be in tomorrow? And what about Anna? Oh, look who I'm asking. Of course you haven't. Well, never mind that now. I'll call the office for you; let them know you won't be in chambers. You weren't in court were you? Never mind. They can sort it out. I was on my way into the city tomorrow anyway. I'm going to cancel my appointments and come over. Is there anything you'll need?"

"A bottle of Scotch," Miles said and hung up the phone. He took another swig and wrestled a cigarette out of the packet. Jesus. He'd forgotten to buy matches. What a useless git. He picked up the bottle again and dropped back into the sofa.

*

Something was banging inside his head. Miles groaned. It was too early for a hangover. The banging got louder and then he heard Warren's voice.

"Miles! Miles!"

Miles hauled himself off the sofa and didn't stumble in the slightest. He yanked the door open and Warren stood in front of him with a hand raised.

"Oh, thank God," he said as he pushed past Miles. "I've been out there for a good fifteen minutes. I was sure someone would call the police."

"They probably did," Miles said as he shut the door. "You didn't need cancel your meetings. I'm fine."

"Right. Of course you are," Warren said. "I wasn't able to cancel my meetings. I'm two hours later than I said I'd be. You weren't answering the phone."

Miles looked at the wall clock. "Right. Well, come in then." Warren was looking at him strangely, Miles realized. Oh. Warren was already in, wasn't he? How much did he drink last night anyway? The empty scotch bottle mocked him from the table. "Got a light," he asked Warren.

"Of course not," said Warren. "And you don't need a cigarette, you need a shower."

"What?"

"You drank a whole bottle of scotch and you slept on the sofa. You stink."

"Oh." Miles stuck his nose in his armpit and cringed. Warren was right. "Yeah. I'll be out in a bit," he said.

*

Miles felt almost human again by the time he finished his shower. If he could get rid of the pounding in his head, he'd be fine.

Warren was waiting in the kitchen. He handed Miles a coffee. "I called Anna," he said.

"Shit," Miles said. "What did you do that for?"

"Because even if you're too proud to admit it, you want to see her. Besides, Egg is still in Spain."

"What makes you so sure? Maybe the other week was nothing more than simple nostalgia."

Warren laughed. "I have a brain, Miles, and eyes." He sat down at the kitchen table like he owned it. "You two have been dancing around each other since university. I think you think you're finally ready to be adult about the whole thing, and maybe you're both mature enough not to tear each other to pieces."

"I tried that once before," Miles muttered. "All it got me was a pint in the face."

"Well," Warren said. "Second time lucky then, hey."

Miles nodded. "Right. Of course." He sighed and sipped at his coffee.

*

Anna held out a bottle of booze when she arrived. "I come bearing essential gifts," she said as she walked through the door.

"Do come in," said Miles.

"Don't mind if I do." Anna looked around. "Where's Warren then?"

Miles shut the door. "Gone. He had to get home to help his parents with something or other."

Anna kicked off her shoes and sank back into his sofa. "That man is too responsible by half." She wriggled further into the cushions. "Are we going to need glasses for this?" she asked as she opened the bottle.

He sat next to her and held his hand out.

"No."

*

Miles had his head in Anna's lap. She was stroking fingers through his hair with one hand and holding the half empty bottle with the other.

"The thing is," he said, "is that I just don't know how I feel. I mean it's not like he was my best mate, or even someone I knew properly." His hands twitched against his legs. "I mean, he was my dad sure, but for fifty percent of my life I was convinced that I hated the manipulative bastard. In fact, I was more than convinced. I really did hate him."

"Did you really?"

"Of course I did!"

"Really?"

"Yes. Really. Stop acting like Warren's therapist." Miles reached up to hold Anna's hand. "My feelings changed, that's all. He stopped trying to run my life and started trying to be my father. Obviously he left it years too late, but he was great with Olivia. Did all the things you'd expect of a rich grandfather."

"So you loved him," Anna said. "It's only natural. He was your father."

"You've changed your tune," he said. He felt her shrug.

"Learnt the hard way, didn't I?"

Miles flinched. "Yeah. I suppose you did." He let go of Anna's hand and reached for the bottle. "This is all a bit of deja vu, isn't it," he said after taking a drink.

Anna took the bottle from him and put on the floor. "Does this mean you'll be leaving me to sleep next to someone else now that we've fucked?"

"What? No. Jesus." He sat up. "Let's not go there. It was a million years ago. We're different now."

There was a fierce glint in her eyes. "Are we," she said. "Are we really so different then."

"Yes. We are."

"Then why didn't you call me, Miles." She reached down and picked up her shirt. "Why didn't you call me after we fucked two weeks ago."

"You could have called me, you know. It is the 21st century after all." Miles was lost. He had no idea why the conversation had turned.

Anna nodded and pulled her shirt back on. "Of course it is." She wasn't looking at him. "Modern times offer such advantages, don't they? Like little blue pills to enhance performance." She pulled on her skirt and turned to face him. "Was that it, Miles? Were you too ashamed to call me because you couldn't get it up? Did you think I'd laugh at you?"

"Fuck you," he said, pulling on his boxer shorts. "What the hell are you doing now if not laughing at me?"

"It's called revenge, Miles. Surely you've heard of it?" She put her shoes on, ran her hands through her hair and started to leave.

Miles watched and wondered if his jaw was actually hanging open or if it just felt like it. "Fine," he said. "Piss off then."

He slammed the door behind her and turned to pick up the bottle.

*

Anna had left her bra behind. He could see it poking out from underneath one of the sofa cushions. Miles pulled it out and stared at the lace draped over his hands. He ran his thumb along the edge and then put the bra on the table next to the scotch and the phone.

Head in hands, Miles stared at all three.

How had it all gone so horribly wrong? He should have called. If he'd called, it wouldn't have mattered that his dad had died. The sex would have been about them. It wouldn't have had anything to do with any other bullshit from the past.

He looked at the bra. It wasn't revenge. He didn't believe that for a second. If it was, Anna would have dressed properly. What was it then? Anger? Pride? Both?

Miles sighed and sprawled against the sofa back. Why did they keep doing this? They were adults, for fuck's sake. Adults – he looked at the phone – capable of communication, supposedly.

What the hell. What was a little more wounded pride in the scheme of things? It wasn't as though Anna could deride his sexual competency. Miles snorted and picked up the phone before he could change his mind. He waited as it rang.

"Anna? It's Miles."

*

 _"Things have been fantastic lately. Everything, and I really mean everything, has been great. Work and home are outstanding; there's been no sign of impending disaster at all. I'm completely calm. And you know, maybe it isn't possible to go back, but it's definitely possible to move forward with the same people. I appreciate everything you've done, honestly, but I finally feel like I have the tools to do it myself now._

Thank you." – Warren

*

"So how's the therapy going," Warren asked.

"Fine," Anna said and took a sip of her wine.

Warren looked at her closely; watching for a hint. "Did you know Miles is going too? I think it'll be good for both of you." He paused for effect. "Maybe you should go together?"

"Really." Anna was ignoring him, the cow. "What are you going to order? I think I'll have the chicken."

"Anna!"

"Warren?"

He groaned. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

Anna smiled. "Tell you what, my dear? That I think you should have the Beef Bourguignon so I can steal off your plate?"

Warren smacked the top of her head with his menu. "What happened with Miles you trollop?"

"Another drink," Anna asked.

"Oh, fuck you," Warren said. "Just so you know, I'm calling Miles as soon as I get back to the office."

"You do that, Warren," she said and winked at him.


End file.
